Miracle Field

Introduction:
This is my first male/female story . Haha, I usually write yaoi or male/male stories. I hope that you all like this at least a little... and please do not, if you don't like gay people etc, please do not, not, read this. because I promise it will get very dramatic very soon :-D. Beware very illicit sexual scenes and gore scene... rated M.
TreyTerror (aka Raventonguethemalice)

Misha didn’t believe her mother when she hung up the phone and turned, smiling, saying, “Well… pack up, your going to your Aunt’s house”.
At first Misha just laughed. There was no-way that anyone would put another sane human being at that woman’s home. She was estranged… into like... Witchcraft! And just weird! Misha didn’t move and just looked at her mother insolently.

“Your kidding right?” She said.
“Actually no darling” Her mother replied, “You need to get away from this stuffy city and go out to more… rural areas…”
Misha laughed at that. It was her mom’s way of saying ‘I want you gone because I cannot handle you anymore’.
“And what do you think is so funny young lady?” Her mother asked, in that motherly tone (one of the only times she ever acted like a real mother)
“Nothing, mother” Misha responded, with a hint of sarcasm and disrespect in her tone.
Misha’s mother just frowned, shrugged her shoulders, and headed up the stairs. “Guess I’ll pack for you”

After that little run in, Misha couldn’t remember being horded off to the bus station, or given enough money for a pre-bought ticket to the little town that her aunt lived in and a visa card. She vaguely remembered her mother kissing her cheek goodbye, and even more vaguely remembered a slight tear on her mother’s cheek (but of course Misha was imaging this… or so she told her self).

When Misha’s mind came back into focus, it was the large open spaces that caught her eye. The rolling acres upon acres of nothing but grass, dirt, trees, sun and cows…

Not really a lot of cows… but every once in a while there would be a cow farm… or a corn farm or some sort of agricultural place of business. It was then that Misha registered the, overly bored sounding, voice crackle over the bus speaker and announce ‘Now Arriving at Miracle-Field, all passengers please gather your belongings’.

Misha looked around, seeing the families laughing and talking and collecting bags and books and toys, and sighed… for she had only her purse… and a preset, pre-funded visa card that her mother gave her for new clothes. The bus halted to a stop casually, the tires grounding against the gravel and the brakes whooshing with their release of pressure. Misha sighed once more, as she stood and entered the procession off of the bus.
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‘It smells funny’ was the first, honest, thought she had.
The second was ‘Where the fuck is my aunt?’

The first question would never truly be answered, and soon Misha would be accustomed to the smell.
But the second question was answered within moments.

A voice, high-pitched, overly feminine, and yet almost melodic, rang through the crowd. Misha turned, smiling half-heartedly, and saw her aunt.
‘Aunty Trace’ Misha thought with an over-whelming sense of embarrassment. Aunt Trace walked lazily, with a southern dip in her step. She was wearing a large skirt that hung to her calves, and whooshed out flowing in the wind. It was the color of a wheat field, and it matched her chocolate brown tank top that she wore. The plethora of necklaces, beads, and charms around her neck, and fingers, made Misha, truthfully, grin.

“Trace” Misha said, with no affection. This response stifled the large welcoming smile of her aunt, and made her lower her out stretched arms.
“Misha,” she replied matching Misha’s tone, “obviously you have changed since I last saw you.”
“Fuck right I have, now where’s your car?”
“…Right over here sweetie” Trace said, motioning for Misha to follow and placing an arm around her shoulder (only to be shrugged off)